


baby, we're afire

by funkietowns



Series: i write sins not tragedies! [4]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-16
Updated: 2018-01-16
Packaged: 2019-03-05 12:10:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13387527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/funkietowns/pseuds/funkietowns





	baby, we're afire

Warm crystal clear beads fall from the shower head, raining down on Yixing’s body like he’s the center of attention. It’s a slow process, Yixing thinks. Scrub, rinse, and repeat. Showering has never been his favorite; he wishes he could wake up with a fresh and clean body each morning, but the drizzle of warmluke water falling upon his back, his chest, and his thighs always make him feel oddly at ease. He relaxes his muscles at the touch of the pouring water, all bad vibes and uncleanliness running down the drain in a matter of seconds and scrubs. Like this, he finds his inner peace; he might sing and he might dance, as dangerous as it’s gotten to be. Showering has shown to require no skill, but mere time and even then Yixing finds that the hassle. Even so, he thinks nothing can really change that.

However, it isn’t the reason why Yifan walks inside the bathroom late that night, no. Yifan means no harm, and he doesn’t find the need to change Yixing’s preferences. He’s come to accept Yixing’s choices, and the consequences that (don’t) come with it. The man adores hot showers, specifically when they’re late at night. Afterwards follows his every day skin care routine, and a glass of wine over small chats with Yixing, and it’s all part of the process to falling asleep. Now, he finds it odd that Yixing is in the shower at this time of night. He doesn’t question it, or even make Yixing aware of his presence, but merely strips down until he’s bare in all his glory. His work pants pool at his feet along with his briefs and then Yifan is stepping out of them and into the shower where Yixing is peacefully humming to himself. Without being able to clearly recognize what he hums to, he admires the sound if even secretly.

When Yifan is inside the shower with his chest nearly touching Yixing’s back, it still isn’t enough to have the younger notice him. Yixing finds himself pressing against Yifan the moment a hand rests on his waist and a pair of warm lips attach themselves to the back of his neck. At this point he’s completely silenced, with his eyes closed and his head tilted to the side, allowing Yifan to scatter kisses from his jaw, down to the junction of his neck and collarbone. The goosebumps that arise on his skin are soon soothed by the warm water that sprinkles over them, Yifan having turned the temperature to his liking. It’s hot and he doesn’t mind it, but it doesn’t compare to how hot Yifan’s lips and tongue and hands feel on his body.

He also doesn’t mind when one of Yifan’s hands run from his waist down to his mid-thigh. It’s lathered with shower gel and Yixing now smells of mahogany and cold midnights; an alluring scent when his nose reaches the skin right behind the shorter man’s ear. Yifan kisses the spot, and Yixing goes weak in the knees. He doesn’t think about it too much, just that there’s familiar comfort in the way his boyfriend takes care of him with such tenderness. Yifan continues to use both hands to lightly caress his skin, using this as an excuse to feel his now ardent flesh on the tip of his fingers. It has Yixing’s mind going hazy, impatient to know where his fingers will reach next.

Yixing’s inhale falters when fingers ever so delicately brush across his nipples. His exhale is quiet, but shaky, like he’s really containing himself from making any other sound. Upon lightly nipping at Yixing’s neck, Yifan feels the goosebumps that form on the other’s his skin once more. His fingers glide down both nipples, and Yixing bites his lip to muffle any sound. He feels the rise of Yixing’s chest, the slow exhale and the tense of his lower stomach muscles when he reaches low enough, but his hands retract to Yixing’s hips, thumbs rubbing his lower back in soothing circles.

A hand comes up to rest on the back of Yifan’s head when the man kisses his way to the other side of Yixing’s neck, not meaning to, but enabling his weak spots. It results in Yixing’s fingers slipping into the other’s wet hair and gently gripping at it, with Yifan releasing breathy respirations against his skin. It makes Yixing shivers in delightful pleasure; he backs up against Yifan’s crotch, his wet asscheeks rubbing against his cock in a motion that has the man growing harder than he has been for the past few minutes.

He isn’t doing it on purpose, but what he presumes to have been Yifan teasing him had become far too much to _not_ do something about it. He goes on subtly grinding against Yifan’s erection, and pulling on his hair as the other’s nose nestles against the back of his ear, finding it unable to keep himself together if he moves even the slightest. Yixing doesn’t expect him to react to this, but he’s wrong, absolutely wrong when Yifan’s body heat leaves his to spin him around so they’re facing each other. It feels like days since they’ve been up close and personal like this; they stare at each other, yearning for a touch, the sexual tension becoming too much to bear.

Yifan’s breath is warm when it hovers over Yixing’s mouth. It smells of sweet peppermint and chocolate covered coffee beans and it’s a different scent tonight, but he finds it filling up his system like no other scent ever has. He looks up at him with soft eyes, their intimacy allowing him an up close look at the way his wet blonde hair curls slightly and sticks to his forehead, or how beads of water roll down his nose, and neck, shoulders and chest, and _God_ , the longer Yixing gazes at him the more he can accept that Yifan looks _divine_. Yixing’s hand rests on Yifan’s abdomen and he tiptoes up, his lower lip running across Yifan’s own before nipping at it. Yifan leans down just barely, allowing Yixing to sensually tugs on the flesh before sucking provocatively, and if the small hitch of his boyfriend’s breath doesn’t prove just how much he enjoys this, the hand that squeezes Yixing’s side to bring him closer until their chests meet admits so.

Yixing is enjoying the process of Yifan unraveling before him, the stress of an exhausting day long gone by the seemingly imperceptible mood that has been set just moments ago. He enjoys taking things slow, making Yifan wait to earn things, but what he relishes in the most is the breaking point, where Yifan loses himself in between pleasing Yixing and pleasing himself. This time he plans to play by Yixing’s rules, but the feeling of his lovers’ erection brushing against his own doesn’t leave much to consider. It completely rushes any and all blood from his brain to his cock, which burns with need to be impelled into Yixing’s tight heat.

And Yixing knows this. The look in his eyes imitates what his own play out, and only until he’s slowly backed up against the glass shower door does he realize that maybe he worked Yifan up a little too much. The shower door is cold and covered in condensation; he can only only imagine how this must look from the other side, with him pressed up against clear glass, only his bare backside showing, with Yifan’s own body movements blurred out. It something new to him. His lips curve upwards into a smirk, one which Yifan kisses right off him with a keenness of teeth bumping, subtle nipping, and rough sucking. Yifan’s hands come up to cup Yixing’s face, bringing him close enough so he can feel the heat bouncing off his slippery skin. Their lips smack against one another, and Yixing falls short of breath because it’s too hot around him, the density in the air added with the weight of Yifan’s tongue inside his mouth making it hard for him to capture any form of oxygen. His lungs are burning and screaming for air—he has to push at Yifan’s chest in order to break the kiss, only taking a second to breathe before he pulls the man back in. His body quivers against Yifan’s, and his hands come to grip at his forearms in return. Their lips move smoothly against each other now, Yifan allowing Yixing to catch his breath every so often. Warm and wet lips overlap each other and Yixing smiles because it tickles. Yifan’s tongue is quick to glide across his lips and teeth, to which Yixing easily parts his mouth open to once again.

He has a more defined taste of what he’d smelled earlier, the tip of his tongue tracing what tastes like cool peppermint, chocolate, and coffee, and he loves the taste because it suits Yifan, but most importantly, because it leaves him wanting more. They seem to kiss for hours, but it’s only been seconds and Yixing takes advantage of their sudden affection by running a hand from Yifan’s chest, down to his slightly built abdomen, and finally, his lower stomach. Yifan groans into his mouth, but Yixing continues kissing him in order to keep him tamed. His fingers reach small hairs, and the buck of Yifan’s hips has his hand palming his shaft. Yifan pulls away, and his gaze remains on Yixing’s ravishing features, who finally manages to open his eyes. They maintain concentrated eye contact; Yifan almost wants to look away in embarrassment when Yixing’s hand wraps around his hardened cock, but he stays looking at him, the small flare of his nostrils when he exhales being enough to make Yixing’s wrists flick in a slow motion. One of Yifan’s hands rests on the glass door behind Yixing, the other cupping his chin as they remain staring at one another.

Yixing has every intention of working Yifan to the brink of his release. His hand squeezes around Yifan’s shaft, and it earns him a familiar groan. Yixing thinks he could listen to Yifan’s groans for eternity, but he much prefers the point in which Yifan is a panting mess, where his vocals can’t seem to decide if he would rather moan or breathe out broken whimpers. Nevertheless, he’s breathless seconds into the handjob. His forehead bumps against Yixing’s and his rapid breath invades the man’s senses in a welcoming manner. His trembling lips touch Yixing’s own, who kisses him skillfully, all the while working to pump Yifan to his release. A hand stops him, halting the source of what makes Yifan’s breathing sound so deep and hot. It’s when Yixing’s head hits back against the glass door that he feels Yifan mouthing at his neck in utter determination; he gasps in surprise, pleasure overcoming it the moment Yifan’s teeth bite down into the usual spot that has him _squirming_. The shorter male’s grip on Yifan’s cock loosens and his hand instead comes up to one shoulder where fingernails are creating new half-crescent marks, overlapping yesterday’s.

Yifan sucks and digs his teeth into Yixing’s neck in slow motions, taking in the taste of his boyfriend’s delicious flesh. He tastes of their first date, their first kiss, their first time; he tastes of comfort and happiness and love―Yixing’s neck is his own personal weakness and it’s a proven fact. Yifan’s teeth connect with sensitive flesh that flushes pink when it’s even remotely touched. Yixing’s marks easily appear as soft shades of peaches, pinks, and reds; he’s always stared in admiration, thinking that the only thing more beautiful than Yixing’s newly marked neck is Yixing himself. It’s cheesy, and his heart feels the need to burst in his chest whenever he thinks about it so he tries not to so much. Without a doubt, what he enjoys the most is teasing Yixing’s neck. He enjoys the feeling of teeth subtly digging into fragile skin, the submissive whimper he hears when he tugs at it, and hearing Yixing sigh in bliss afterwards. Yixing never tells him to stop but it’s okay because truth be told, Yifan never wants to.

It’s with a weak cry and a harsh scratch of his shoulder that Yifan is knocked back into his senses, realizing just how hard he’s bitten and sucked into Yixing’s neck. His tongue apologetically laps at the abused flesh, lips moving up to find Yixing’s ear.

_I’m sorry._

_It’s okay._

_I love you._

Yixing laughs, and Yifan isn’t sure what’s so funny. He doesn’t need to know, because the sound is beautiful anyway.

In a matter of seconds, it goes absolutely quiet. Yixing’s close to whimpering when Yifan’s large hands make their way from his firm ass, down to the back of his thighs. Instantaneously, he’s lifted and pressed further against the glass door. Yixing arches his back forward at the new cold spots that his back comes in contact with, but his legs willingly wrap around Yifan’s hips. His breath is stuck in his throat, and he looks down at the man who’s got two fingers teasing the entrance of his puckering hole. His hold on Yifan’s shoulders turn into tight fists when those two fingers slip inside him so effortlessly. It almost feels like nothing, but the thickness Yifan’s fingers create when they scissor him open make his mouth fall agape. Yifan’s digits expertly spread Yixing open by rubbing his walls and curving them inside his tightness, knowing exactly the way he likes it. He finds pleasure in listening to the small huffs and puffs Yixing emits, only fueling his desire to hear more of his sinful sounds.

When Yixing’s head bumps against the door and his chest rises, Yifan knows he’s hit his sweet spot dead on. His fingers try again, brushing against the tissue that seems to drive the other insane. It’s when he hears a single whimper that Yifan’s fingers leave his body. In attempts to have more of what he’s so eager for, Yixing’s ass lowers impatiently, and if Yifan’s smirk doesn’t show how amused he is, he doesn’t know what will.

Yixing irritably glances at Yifan, who only now finds that it’s okay to take his time. He finds it hard to speak, but then again, coaxing has always worked best. His smaller hands glide down Yifan’s chest, choosing to tease and play with his hardened nipples by rubbing and tugging at them between his fingertips. Yifan looks unfazed but deep down he’s losing it. Yixing is also losing his patience.

“Fuck me already.”

“Give me a good reason why.”

“You want this too.”

Yifan grins and presses a kiss to his boyfriend’s lips. “Besides the obvious, baby.”

“… I didn’t choose to shower at night for nothing.”

He hadn’t expected to hear that confession. Yifan is baffled and blessed at the same time.

“Wow. We should have sex.”

Yixing weakly punches his chest. _I’ve been insinuating that, you idiot_ is what he means to say, but instead he laughs and his eyes turn into half crescents, and Yifan stares a little too long.

“We definitely should.”

Another peck ensues. Yifan leans down slower this time, but their lips don’t meet until his nose rubs against Yixing’s. He likes the feeling, the build-up-to-a-kiss. He thinks it’s sexy and a little intimidating, and Yixing finds it a turn on. The waiting is what makes the kiss far more needed than thought. They revert to kissing because Yixing can’t get enough of the taste he’s allowed. Yifan takes this time to tug at his own erection, and all the while his lips work with Yixing’s in a sensual motion. His fingers come in contact with the head of his length, using the layer of precome to coat his cock as best as he can before the water can wash away his attempts.

He breaks the kiss and murmurs a _Ready?_ to which Yixing takes in a deep breath and nods with his eyes still closed. It’s hot and humid, and it adds a perfect touch to the moment. There’s a thickness in the air, which Yixing finds exciting because they’ve never done this before and it just feels _right_. (He imagines Yifan fucking him breathless inside this shower, of falling against his boyfriend’s body, his own body completely pliant to show he’s given up. He imagines himself whispering _do whatever you want with me_ out of sheer tiredness. There’s no doubt Yifan would.)

Yifan guides the head of his cock to Yixing’s pulsating entrance and he gradually pushes in, coming to a stop each time he hears Yixing release small whimpers. It uncomfortable, but it’s nothing uncommon and Yixing can deal with a little pain anyway. He urges Yifan to go all the way in, and with the sudden thrust the man’s hips give, it manages to knock the breath out of him. He moans softly, the familiar sound ringing in Yifan’s ears driving him insane. Yifan’s settled all the way in, his throbbing length filling Yixing up to the hilt. Yixing releases a relieved sigh, followed by the roll of his hips so to encourage Yifan to _move_. His own hips tremble because he needs to be fucked _now_. Yifan can take a hint, if the way Yixing is whining _fuck me, please_ says anything.

His hips move skillfully as he begins to drive his cock in and out of Yixing, the younger man following his pace and rhythm with rocks of his hips to lessen his workload. His head rolls back, but Yifan leans forward to give him small kisses, to which Yixing replies with pecks in between their panting. Yifan’s hands settle on his boyfriend’s ass, feeling up the soft skin, groping and smacking whenever Yixing’s hips slow down. Each yelp is another reason to slap at the sensitive skin, and Yixing finds himself moaning in such a filthy manner when his skin stings in familiar pain he adores so much. He loves when Yifan is rough during sex, not allowing even a split second for them to calm down because it’s not calm that they need, it’s _frantic_ , it’s _passion_. it’s _lust_.

Every now and then, Yifan struggles to catch his breath, but the way Yixing’s walls clamp down on his cock and the way his ass swallows him up so nicely has him finding reasons to pound into the other without slowing down. His force is unbelievable, even as he strikes Yixing’s prostate repeatedly. Yixing wheezes at first, followed by the rasp of a groan, dying down into a weak whimper. One of Yixing’s hands attaches itself onto Yifan’s hair to tug on it, and the other he uses to rest on the back of his neck. Yixing doesn’t think he can last much longer, the way that Yifan grunts being one reason out of hundreds as to why he’d release so suddenly.

He’s wrong. Yifan cursing is the first thing that’ll have him come so quickly.

“ _Fucking shit_ —” His voice is raw and hard, and it takes a toll on Yixing’s hormones, especially when the sound appears right by his ear, awakening spots in him he didn’t know were so prone to feeling this easily attacked. He strikes Yifan’s lips with his own, kissing him like he’s been starving for affection. His hands slide down the chest before him, instantly scratching at the skin; Yifan can’t help but to moan because Yixing marking him works him up so damn much. By now he’s aggressively taking Yixing’s hands into one of his own larger hands, their fingers interlacing so he can press his arms up against the glass door. Yixing tries to look up with hooded eyes and a heaving chest, but ultimately renders to sucking Yifan’s tongue into his mouth.

Holding Yixing’s arms up works well for a while until he’s struggling and gasping for air each time Yifan kisses him a little too long. He tries to pry his hands away to hold on to something, but Yifan won’t have any of it. His chest is burning, his whole body feels like it’s been lit on fire, and it has his stomach coiling in a pleasant and overpowering sensation. Yixing’s mind goes hazy with inexplicable lust and bliss as Yifan fucks into him with violent thrusts, making him scream and arch his back off the door each time. The sound of their skin slapping against each other resonates much more prominently now and it only adds gas to the burning fire. Yifan and Yixing are afire―flames that flicker underneath a storm of waters.

It’s not until Yifan’s mouth reaches for his earlobe for a second time that Yixing gasps out a very sexual _Oh my god_. Yifan is heated, and having had enough of his lewd expressions and sounds, his hands come back down to his hips, controlling their movement for him to continuously pull his cock out and slam back inside Yixing’s spasming and vulnerable hole, At a lost for all words and sounds, Yixing submits to inhaling deeply and holding his breath. He squeezes his eyes shut and presses his teeth into his lower lip, the rise of his chest informing Yifan that he’s nearing his climax. His come splatters onto Yifan’s stomach and navel, and Yixing’s exhale comes out in a series of provocative moans and short puffs of air in between. His cheeks and lips are a vibrant pink now and his whole body slumps forward, exhausted as ever. He manages to nuzzle his nose and lips against Yifan’s ear, weakly sucking the sensitive skin into his mouth, knowing what it’ll do to the man. “Fill me up, _please_.”

Yixing’s voice comes out in a way that Yifan would describe as excessively tantalizing, rousing his every sense, starting with the tightening in his stomach that has him reaching his peak in a matter of seconds. It takes a particular thrust and a raw growl for him to paint Yixing’s walls with newly released warmth that has the other mewling in delight. His body shivers and his sensitive cock continues leaking pearly white come inside Yixing’s clenched hole as he fucks him thoroughly, the explosion of his seeds rushing out of Yixing when he finally pulls out.

Yixing is on his feet once the couple manages to come down from their high. Yifan holds him close, kissing his abused lips as his hands work with a loofah to scrub his body. He uses Yixing’s favorite shower gel, cleaning him up well, rough palms soothing over abused skin, or plain sensitive skin. He pampers Yixing throughout, making sure that every speck of his body, ever piece of skin is scrubbed, caressed and washed off. He later resumes to washing himself up, but stops once he notices Yixing’s eyes have been on him the whole time. Yifan smiles and turns to look at him. He stands underneath the shower head, allowing the beads of water to wash away any foam on his body.

“What’s on your mind?”

“I’m just wondering why we didn’t do this any time sooner.”

Yifan laughs and one hand cups his chin. He pulls Yixing close to give the tip of his nose a gentle kiss.

“I’ll assume you’re trying to say you like showers now.”

“Not what I meant at all—”

“ _So then_ , next week, same time, same tactics?”

Yixing smacks Yifan’s hand away and wraps his arms around his boyfriend’s neck. He laughs against his lips, but what he really wants to do is tell him _you’re really fucking stupid_. Instead, he nods and plants a big kiss on his smiling lips.

“Sounds like a plan.”

He supposes showering isn’t _that bad_ after all. It’s still not his favorite, but deep down he knows he might just be lying to himself. Showering (with Yifan) will never be the same again.


End file.
